New poem!

I know, it's amazing, I actually wrote a poem within a couple months of the last one. Popped into my head while I was trying to sleep and here it is as it came out.

As I lie here awake
I wonder if others
Have unselfish reasons
For being awake.
Is life or death
Involved in their insomnia?
Are they planning
The next days battles?
And praying they survive?
Or are the legions of sleepless
As superficial as I,
Worrying about school
And sleepless dreams
With special crushes,
Thoughts of the battlers
Barely breaking throught the chaos
But they always makes
Me wonder what the
Legions of the sleepless
Are sleepless about.

AUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Ok. The title just about sums it up. (Whine alert) I'm cranky for insane reasons (do NOT pull the stereotypical guy thing and blame it on that. It's not THAT) of that I'm hungry, and I was picked on about dropping the f bomb WHICH I DID NOT DO. And they two guys that claimed I dropped the f bomb were acting like they had just seen me go through and initiation right or something. Pissed me off. Then, for no good reason my knee starts hurting. So I take ibprofen. I'm not sure what did it, but all of a sudden I felt really light headed (I'm just wondering if the air was thin) and like passing out. And lashing out. Ugggghhhhhhh. Anywho, I would really like to talk to you. You know about the situation I emailed you about? Ok, dealt with it myself. Please talk to me?

New poem

Mind you, never experienced something like this. My mind kind of churned it out. Yes, I do think it's a little strange to be thinking about it. No clue why. Yes, I know, cliffhanger, but the poem just wanted to be ended there. My mind goes into overdrive when I try to think about this person dying, but I can't see it ending any other way. Urgh, already feels like a chunk of me is missing. :P I need to talk, and for you to ask questions. I'm going to be home all day tomorrow. :P I almost feel like a shroud of silence is following me. It's not oppressive or anything, it's just noticeable. Like I have to force my words out, such as when I'm talking to my dad. I think it has something to do with uh, her (think CM). She was exuberant, glowing even, with that subtle smile of I love my life. Then she got a phone call, and I didn't see her much after that, and she wasn't as happy. I don't know why that would bug me. This is weird, I feel like I don't have words for anyone else but you. I mean, in the sense that if I try to explain any of this to anyone else they will just look at me funny. Urgh. Anyway, now that that's out of my system, the poem. Urgh, I have this nagging feeling something is wrong. I don't know where it came from, but I don't like it. I'm not going to be sleeping much tonight. Where are you anyway? :P

Nightmare. Time crawled by.
A truck blasted out of the silence
Splintering the fragile night,
Echoes of shredding metal.
The little red car, no.
It can’t. It wouldn’t.
No, can’t think that.
Cell phone. Where’s my cell phone.
Right, 911, phone number, location.
Help, must go help. Can’t be.
Wouldn’t be. Mustn’t be.
Frantic dash from car. Seatbelt.
No fuel leak, no fire. Ok, calm.
Door, get the car door open.
NO, can’t be. Couldn’t be. Why?
Hurry, seatbelt. Get them out.
Why them? Why here? Why?
Relief. He’s ok. Get his help, must help.
Oh no. Oh no. Why her?
Big dent, she still alive?
Truck, must move the truck.
Get driver out, no trust.
Ok, please, door, open.
No, no, no. Crowbar. I have one.
Please, hurry. Sirens. Relief.
Door opened, blood. Not her. Not here.
Help her. HELP HER. No, I’m fine.
HELP HER, PLEASE. Why her?
No, she must be alive. She can’t die.
Not her, not here. Panic.

Kind of like a prose

I wrote this in response to someone who was going on the whole "Youth have no respect these days" tangents. URGH! That drives me crazier than sexism, because there are so many people who are just trying to make a difference and they get drowned out by those who attend orgies for fun. *rolls eyes*

I am a youth, and I must say, all of the stereotypical crap about youth drives me BONKERS. I'm fourteen, I've never been kissed, hell, I've never even really been touched by a guy my age. I very rarely cuss, I've never looked at porn, I have a plan for my life, and I try to respect authority as much as possible. I am also drug and alcohol free, and have never been to an orgy. Does this make me outside of the stereotype? I don't think so. I know a lot of people my age who are upstanding citizens, even if they might cuss (so do their parents) or talk in class (who doesn't at one point or another.) Heck, I'm even taking college classes because I wanted to get ahead and move on with my life. So yes, youth need help. Are we all spoiled rotten and rotten to the core? No! Alright, that was somewhat flamey. I apologize. Stereotypes are just one of those things that bypass patience for me. Anywho, I truly feel like the youth of America will make a difference, and be able to help change the world for the better. It might take a national tragedy to bring EVERYONE together, but so many teens are just looking to change their world and get frustrated when they keep hitting walls or locked doors over and over again. Do a lot of youth need help? Yes! Do some just need a megaphone? Yes!